


Time of Miracles... or Something Like That

by theladyofmisthaven



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:43:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyofmisthaven/pseuds/theladyofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma Swan hates Christmas. Well maybe hate is a little too strong of a statement. She is just not as into it as Mary Margaret is. She can handle it when Henry is around but this year her son spends Christmas with his father, whose words force Emma to reconsider some things. Especially her feelings towards Killian Jones...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time of Miracles... or Something Like That

**Author's Note:**

> As always a big thak you goes to captain_k_jones, my wonderfull beta( lots of heatlh to you love).

Emma Swan hates Christmas. Well maybe _hate_ is a little too strong of a statement. She is just not as into it as Mary Margaret is, with all her over the top decorations, singing Christmas songs and baking stuff since early December. She can handle a little tree in the corner of her living room, a cup of eggnog, and unpacking some present with her son first thing in the morning on Christmas Day. She loves these little moments she can spend with Henry, when they can do whatever they want and just be together without worrying about everyday responsibilities. She can ignore that all too cheerful propaganda and forget about her painful past. Forget the time when Christmas reminded her of being an orphan. For her son, she can even enjoy Christmas parties. She learned to appreciate the Holiday season, most of the time anyway, but this year... This year sucks.

It all starts a week before Christmas, when Neal calls her to announce, announce not ask, he is taking Henry on a ski trip with his new fiancée Tamara. Apparently Miss ‘I’m so much better than you’ thinks she should get to know her future stepson a little better and taking him away from Emma on Christmas has been her choice of action. Frankly, Emma is tempted to refuse, but the look of hope that brightens her son’s face makes her reconsider. The sheer joy of spending some time with his always absent father her boy shows, breaks her heart. Unable to deny him anything, at least when he’s that excited, she agrees. Reluctantly, but still she agrees.

Henry leaves two days before Christmas. She tries to keep it together when her ex arrives at her front door, she really does, but he always seems to know how to push her buttons in the wrong way.

“Don’t be mad Ems.” He throws her a smile. The one that used to get him anything he wanted from her. “Look on the bright side. At least you can spend more time with your boyfriend.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she frowns.

“What are you playing at Neal?” He’s up to something, of that she’s sure. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” She spits out, convinced he just wants to piss her off even more. Reminding her of her love life, or lack of thereof, stings.

His eyes widen and something akin to surprise flashes in then.

“Oh.” He mumbles. “I thought your pinning for Jones was a mutual thing.” Putting his hands to his pockets, he shrugs. “Guess I was wrong.”

Emma feels her jaw dropping.

“My what?”

Tilting his head, Neal rolls his eyes at her.

“Come on, Ems.” There’s something so patronizing in his tone and she wants to strangle him, despite feeling utterly confused. “All those yearning looks and doey eyes. I know them well. They used to be about me, you know.”

She wants to kill him, the fucking asshole. Chop of his head and put his body into a freezer in some abandoned warehouse She could do it. She’s a bail bond person, she knows how to find people, so hiding a body would not be that difficult.

Before she is even able to throw back a biting retort, which is not easy considering his ridiculous statement, Henry runs out of his room and kisses her in his mad dash while murmuring: _“Bye mom. Wish Merry Christmas to Killian from me._ ” Seconds later the door closes behind him and the last thing Emma sees is Neal’s smirking face.

What in the freaking hell has possessed that man. Her and Killian? Sure they spend a lot of time together and he’s there for her and Henry every time they need him, but that’s what friends do. Right? They help each other and don’t leave when things get messy, because there are no deeper feelings involved. Why would Neal think she has a crush on her best friend? She rubs her eyes furiously. It is probably because he wants to feel better about himself, push away the guilt of taking Henry away from her on Christmas. Yes, that’s it. It has to be it.

Letting out a groan, she decides she does not give a damn what her ex thinks. At least, she tries not to. By some, oh the irony, miracle, she doesn’t have any bail skipper to chase and that means she has some extra free time. If there is one thing that Emma Swan never does, it’s thinking about feelings. So she mopes around the apartment, cleans everything in her sight and even organizes some papers that have been laying around her apartment since April. She cooks herself dinner instead of of eating a take-out like she usually does when Henry is not around. She decorates the Christmas tree and the apartment. She even joins Mary Margaret on her last shopping and offers help with the Nolan’s Annual Christmas Eve party. If her friend notices something, she doesn’t say. By the time Christmas Eve arrives she’s almost mad with anxiety. Avoiding thinking is not as easy as she thought it would be, especially when her phone is full of messages and unanswered phone calls from the man who has been the sole reason of her distress. Thank goodness she has a party to prepare for.

***

Usually Emma is able to enjoy Mary Margaret's and David's Christmas Eve party without any help from her favorite whisky on the rocks but tonight, tonight she ends up nursing her second glass in one hour. Shooting everyone looks from beneath her frowned eyebrows, she sits alone on the couch in the living room. Most of the guests know her well enough to know not to disturb her in her dark corner and at first she thinks it’s a good idea. Being left alone, means she doesn’t have to answer any questions or engage in conversation. Unfortunately that leads her to do one thing she has been trying to avoid - thinking about Neal’s words and her feelings towards Killian Jones.

He’s been such a constant in her life, since she had met him three years ago. Always there to help, to comfort, never crossing the line, even though he threw terrible innuendos towards her at the beginning of their acquaintanceship. She smiles at the thought. He toned them down when he learned about Neal, but they never really went away. She likes it though, counts it as a part of their friendly banter. The fact it is his defense mechanism has never been discussed between them.

Killian is a handsome man. She does have eyes. She has seen how other women look at him but he just never seemed to be interested in any of them. Is it because of his not exactly happy past or because of her? And why exactly has that thought even crossed her mind?

Eyeing her empty glass with fury, she decides she is in need of a refill. Time to drag her ass off the coach and head to the kitchen area. Letting out a sigh, Emma stands up and tries to stretch out her bones. As she walks towards her destination, she notices white lint plastered all over her black dress. She curses silently, desperately trying to take them off. Why had she chosen to wear black again? Beside the fact she loves the color.

She almost stops dead in her tracks, when she hears a hushed conversation. Lifting up her head to check on whom she has just walked upon, she feels her heart start to beat rapidly. Of all the things, she expects to see the scene before her is most definitely not one of them.

When Emma looks up, she sees Killian in his ridiculous purple shirt talking with Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell who, as everyone in their circle knows, has had a crush on him for the past two years. The conversation looks very private. She cannot make out a single word, but the way Killian tilts his head towards the blond and the way he nods at her words, makes Emma’s stomach turn and not in a good way. Suddenly, she doesn’t like the fact that the petite woman has her hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t like the fact their faces are only inches apart and she most definitely doesn’t like the way he smiles at whatever Tink is saying. No, Emma doesn’t like that at all. She feels pain in her palm and quite unexpectedly to herself she notices her free hand was clenches into fist. She looks at angry red the half-moons marking her palm. She only does that when she is mad. Why is she mad now?

Moving forward, Tinkerbell closes the distance between Killian and her, and both of them sink into an embrace. A very comfortable looking embrace that causes Emma to swallow hard.

 _Jealous._ Her blood feels like liquid ice when the realization hits.  She is jealous. Emma Swan is never jealous. Why on earth is she now? Surely not because another woman is embracing the man she usually does. No, it can't be that. It can’t also be the fact that he seems to enjoy the attention he is getting. It isn’t as though, she wants to be in Tink's place right now, lost in his broad shoulders, inhaling his spicy scent, feeling all safe and protected, feeling special…

Tinkerbell places a kiss on his cheek and Emma feels her world shattering into pieces. It is as if someone punched her in her stomach. Neal was right. She is in love in Killian Jones. But it seems he loves someone else.

The empty glass slips from her fingers and shatters on the floor. The sound of the broken glass causes the couple before her to break apart. She feels like a deer caught in headlights when Killian’s blue gaze searches her own. Why hasn't she noticed before that he has such beautiful blue eyes? Or maybe she has?

“Emma?” He asks with a frown.

She shakes her head furiously and take a step back as he moves towards her.

“Emma? What’s wrong?”

How can he ask her that? Everything is wrong. She is in love in her best friend. She is in love with her best friend and she never knew it before now. Switching her gaze from Killian’s concerned face to Tink’s surprised one, she can’t take it anymore. So she does what Emma Swan does the best, she runs.

***

Emma doesn’t know how long she wanders the streets. Her apartment is not that far away from the Nolan’s loft but when she has left the building, she hadn’t been thinking about going home. She was scared, and hurt, and all she wanted to do was run. Running down the empty streets, she cries. Tears fall down her cheeks, sobs rack her body, and all she can think of is how stupid she has been through all of the years she knew Killian. How could she not see what apparently even Neal saw. Why couldn’t she see what her friend meant to her until it was too late.

When she reaches her apartment she is half frozen and shivering. Her teeth clatter against each other and her hands are red and wrinkled. Leaving without her coat and purse was stupid and Emma knows she would not hear an end of it for a long time, but right now she just wants to get in her apartment and bury herself under the covers.

Taking out her spare key from the hole in her doormat, she puts it into the lock only to discover that door is already open. Her heart starts to beat faster. She swears she closed them before leaving. Pushing them, she all but barges into her living room and stops dead in her tracks.

Her big red couch is occupied by very angry looking Killian Jones. He taps his foot against the floor as he shoots her a look from beneath his knotted eyebrows. The one he gets when she does something incredibly stupid in his opinion.

 

She almost rolls her eyes at him, not keen on hearing a lecture from anyone and especially not from him. Shooting the door behind her, she briefly wonders why is he even here. She’s not sure if she wants to face him right now.

“What are you doing here?’ Her voice comes out harsher than she intends, maybe because she has walked a few blocks without her coat in a cold night.

He stands up from the couch, his moves swift and confident, his eyes blazing with barely hidden anger.

“Apparently taking care of you,” he says, picking up a blanket and heading towards her.

She takes a step back, not sure how to react at his presence.

“Don’t be a baby, Swan.” His accent gets deeper when he’s mad, adding an edge to his already dangerous voice.

She wants to protest when he puts the blanket around her shoulders but words die on her lips as the back of his hand touches her forehead. The shiver that runs through her body has nothing to do with her being cold. He must have noticed that and took it as a bad sign, because he clenches his jaw so hard she could almost hear his teeth grinding.

Pulling the blanket tightly around her, he leads her to the couch while rubbing his hands up and down her back. Wordlessly, he helps her to sit down and proceeds to take of her boots. His muscles work beneath his shirt as he rubs her cold feet with his palms. He doesn’t speak a word to her as he works and that scares her. Killian is the talkative one. If he is silent, it’s never a good thing.

Normally, Emma would have demanded to know what drove him to anger but tonight she is too tired and too cold. Besides, she knows it may be actually her fault.

“Killian?” Her own voice sounds so small and pleading.

He looks up at her and she is struck by how tired he looks. Concern flashes in his eyes, concern and hurt. She has ignored his calls and avoided him at the party until her own stubbornness backfired on her

“I’m sorry.” She feels like crying again. It isn’t his fault she fell in love with him. It isn’t his fault that Neal’s words have struck something too close to home and she has chosen to distance herself from Killian in fear, rather than face her feelings.

His body visibly relaxes upon hearing her plea. Shaking his head, he lets go of her feet and sighs.

“I know Emma. Just, please don’t do that again.”

Tucking her legs underneath her body, she shivers again. He is at her side in an instant. He climbs on the couch next to her and lifts the blanket to do so. Covering them both in thick wool, he puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close to him. With his free hand he reaches for another blanket, only to put it over their legs.

Warmth surrounds her. Not only the kind that heavy fabrics provide, but also his warmth. A warmth she loves so much. The one that always surrounds her when she needs comfort. Sighing contentedly, she snuggles into him even more. His head rests on top of hers almost immediately and in that moment everything seems almost right.

They sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company as they always do before Killian speaks up again.

“What happened love?” His gravelly voice vibrates in his chest, which has both calming and disturbing effect on her. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

Her heart skips beat as she remembers what caused the whole situation. The reason why she avoided him, why she ran when she saw him with Tink. She feels the urge to flee again but… he is here. He left Tink and came to look for her so maybe she owns him the truth at least. Praying herself from his embrace, she lets out a deep sight. His hand covers hers and squeezes it in reassurance. Emma looks into his beautiful blue eyes and just knows she has to tell him. Friends never lie to each other and she won't start doing it now, even if she ends up with broken heart in the process.

“Neal took Henry for Christmas..” she starts and she’s not quite sure how to proceed. A gentle squeeze on her hand encourages her to keep going. “He...assumed he was doing me a favor.” She dares to look at him from beneath her eyelashes.

A frown adorns his features as he tries to comprehend her words. Killian never liked Neal, she knows that, but he is respectful enough to not say anything to her or Henry.

“Why would he assume that?” He asks carefully.

“He… Neal thought I’ll be glad to spend more time with you.” His eyebrow raises so high, it almost disappears in his dark locks that were falling messily over his forehead. “He was under impression we were dating and …” Lost at her own words, she shakes her head. He moves his fingers through hers like it’s the most natural thing in the word for him. It’s strangely comforting and frightening how well their hands feet together. She’s never noticed that before. He runs his thumb over her knuckles and she feels… she’s not quite sure what she feels.

“It got me thinking…”

“And you got scared.” His soft murmur brings the corners of her lips up in a small smile. He knows her so well, like an _open book_ and it doesn’t scare her as much as she thinks it should.

“I didn’t want to think about it, did all I could to prevent it, but then I saw you with Tink and I..”

“Tink?” He straightens up and looks at her with his brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s Tink got to do with it?”

Averting her gaze, Emma shrugs her. She has no idea how to answer him without sounding ridiculous. None.

“You two were sharing a moment and I…” her voice breaks. “... all I could do was stand there and think about what Neal had told me.”

Never letting go of her hand, Killian shifts besides her, moving closer to her so that their legs touch again. Her heart speeds up.

“You’re jealous over Tink?” His voice hits a little higher than normal note and she can tell he’s surprised, very surprised. She doesn’t have to look at him to know his eyebrow is shooting up to sky. Blood rushes to her cheeks and she bows her head in shame.

“You looked very cozy together,” she mumbles under her breath. It’s barely audible and for a moment she hops, he hasn’t heard it. She’s not that lucky.

“Emma.” Her name on his lips sends a shiver down her spine. “There is nothing between me and Tinkerbell.” The softness in his voice leads her to snap her head up. He’s smiling at her and there is something soft in his eyes too, something she has seen before, many times. “In fact, we were talking about you.”

Dumbfounded, she opens her mouth only to close it again.

“She wanted to tell me she decided to stop pursuing me.” He winked at her. “Apparently, she came to conclusion that she can’t break us apart and it’s time to move on.” Her jaw drops open at his words, which makes him smirk even wider. “I hate to break it to you love, but we’ve been in a relationship for a while now.”

She wants to argue with him but renders it pointless. He’s right. Everything in their relationship screamed _couple_ \- the long movie nights, spending vacation together, going places together, being each other's plus one. Heck they put each other as emergency contacts. Somehow everyone but her has known.

“Am I the only one who wasn’t aware of this?”

His eyes shine like stars at her question.

“I’m afraid so.” There is laughter in his voice and she wants to be annoyed at him but she can’t. She’s too damn happy so she smiles back.

He grows serious suddenly, eyes full of emotion, she cannot name. Reaching out his free hand towards her, he puts a strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingers brush against the sensitive  skin of her neck shooting sparks through her body

“You know I love you right?” His voice is husky, vulnerable. She shakes her head. “Well I do. I have for some time now.” He smiles again. “I knew you weren't ready to hear that.” He rests his forehead against hers. “But I feel you might be now.” His breath tickles her nose a little.

It’s such an abstract concept for her, that someone could love her like that, in a romantic way. For a long time, she thought was lost to her. That she will never be able to experience the kind of affection Mary Margaret and David share, but she has been wrong, so very wrong.

“I love you too…” She whispers against his lips.

The kiss is soft and sweet and all things she has dreamed about as a teenager but she is not a teenager anymore. No, she’s a grown up women, who has spent too many years wasting time because of her fears. She’s done doing that.

Letting go of his hand, she weaves her fingers into his hair and tilts his head to the side to trace his bottom lip with her tongue. He responds immediately with his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him as his tongue invades her mouth. It’s hot and messy, and exactly what she wants.

Using his neck as an anchor, she lifts herself of the couch to straddle his lap. The blankets fall of them, one piling up on the floor, the other behind them on the backrest. He lets out a groan as settles herself over his length. There are several layers of fabric between them and she can still feel the heat of his body. She pulls herself to him even closer, desperate to feel even more.

When her fingers drift to buttons of his shirt, Killian digs his fingers in her waist almost painful,  and he breaks their kiss.

“Emma, are you sure?” He looks at her from beneath his hooded eyelids, pupils blown wide by his desire for her. His breath is heavy, lips parted.

She smiles against his scruffy cheek as she starts kissing a path to his ear. She works the first button open.

“Quite sure.” Her whisper sends a shiver through his body and she is glad she has the same effect on him as he has on her.

Pulling back with her hands still on his chest, Emma grows serious.

“I don’t want to waste any more time. Three years of foreplay are enough, don’t you think?”

Any doubt that she saw on his face before, is gone after her statement. She can feel his muscles relax beneath her palms as a smile graces those kissable lips of his.

“Aye.” His eyebrow raises in amusement. “I think you’re quite right darling.”

His hands move from her waist to travel up her spine, sending a delicious heat through her as Killian straightens himself up, detaching his back from the backrest. He tilts his head to trace his lips down her neck, his tongue follows soon, earning him a moan.

“I just don’t want you to get even colder,” he murmurs into her skin as she throws her head back to give him better access.

Her laugh comes out more like a whimper when he sucks at her pulse point and she digs her fingers in his hair again to anchor herself. Her moves causes her to grind against him unconsciously and it’s his turn to moan.

“Actually...” she manages to say between shaky breaths. “I think this may get me warmer.”

“Well then.” His fingers find the zipper of her dress and start to pull it down. “I can’t have the lady waiting, can’t I?” His accent thickness as he pulls the tab down.

She kisses him again, hard. Working quickly, she proceeds to unbutton his shirt, her lips never leaving his, their tongues dancing together in a perfect rhythm. He winds up one of his hands in her hair, long fingers playing with her curls while pulling her closer to him. his other hands finds its way under the edges of her dress, smoothing the skin on her now bare back. The touch sends shock waves through her body and she is desperate to get him out of his shirt. Ignoring the remaining buttons, she catches the hems of it  and drags it over his head, breaking their kiss in the process. Her actions leave him bear chested before her and she lets out a triumphant sigh.at the sight of his lean muscles and the diamond of dark hair above them. She moves to run her fingers through it but Killian uses the time she has spent admiring him, the slide the dress from her shoulder. The liquid fire she sees in his gaze makes her happy she hasn’t bothered with bra today.

He reaches his hand to trace her nipple with his thumb. His touch ignites her blood. Lowering his head, he takes her other nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. Letting out a moan, she weaves her fingers through his hair again and pulls his head closer. His picks up his pace and it sets her blood on fire. She grinds against his crotch unconsciously, making him groan into her skin.  

She’s tired of waiting so she guides his lips back to hers. Their tongues dance as she moves her feet to anchor them against his waist. The friction between their bodies is almost unbearable. His arms tighten around her back, palms hot against her skin. It’s not enough.

Biting on his bottom lip, she shits to the side, pulling him with her, to lay down on the couch. He lets out groan as his hardness rubs against her core again and before she knows it, he breaks the kiss and grabs onto her clothes to pull them all down at once in a swift move. She watches him from beneath her heavy lids as he stands to take of his. His eyes never leave hers as he slips off his shoes. He wrestles with his belt buckle for a while. Cursing under his breath, he lowers his eyes to the offensive accessory. When it’s undone, he gets rid of his underwear and in a record time. She swears she has never seen a man undress so fast and it’s such a turn on.

Emma smirks when their eyes met again. Feeling playful, she beckons him with her finger. Something predatory shines in his eyes as he slowly climbs back on the couch, his moves smooth and alluring. A liquid warm shoots as he settles above her. The touch of his hard length against her core is almost too much to bare for both of them. Letting out a strangled moan, he puts his forehead to hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes shining with affection.  She can still see the desire in them, but they look softer as says it.

Reaching out her hand to his, she interviews their fingers, before whispering:

“Make love to me Killian.”

Their noses brush, when he tilts his head to meet her lips. A soft whimper escapes her mouth the contact..

It should be awkward, this back and forth between tender and hot but it’s not. It feels right somehow.

His free hand travels along her curves, fingers brushing against her sensitive skin. Hers trace a path down his spine to his buttocks. It’s all soft touches and heavy sighs, their love making. Soon his lips leave hers and take the path his hands has mapped before.

When he slides into her, she lets out a loud moan. He stills for a moment, giving her time to adjust. He lets out a groan when she rocks her hips against him impatiently and sends her a smile before kissing her again and starts to slowly move.

They fit perfectly together, like they’re made for each other. Every push, every pull sends delicious shivers through her body and, judging by the sounds he makes, he feels it too. Hands and lips wonder as they move in a dance as old as time. Their joined hands rest above her head and all she can do is whisper his name in breathy moans over and over again. He whispers sweet nothings into her skin between kisses and moves lazily against her. It’s so wonderfully sweet that she feels tears pricking her eyes but still not enough.

She puts her palm to his scruffy cheek to get his attention. He looks up, leaning into her touch as his eyes reflect the colorful lights of the Christmas tree behind her. She doesn’t have to do too much. One look is enough for him to know what she wants. He starts to move faster and faster. His every push and pull sends more pleasure through her body. She finds herself clasping their hands tighter with each stroke. Their breaths shorten, the air starts to get thicker, and sweat traces wet paths on their bodies.

Still looking into her eyes, he puts his forehead to hers as he takes her higher and higher. So high, she doesn’t know when one ends and the other begins. He kisses her lips again, seconds before she reaches her peak and literally sees the stars. Her whimper is silenced by his lips. Heaven, it feels like heaven. His movements become frantic and he falls over the edge only seconds later, with her name on his lips. Taking a shaky breath, he lifts himself off her a little, only to rest his head between her breasts. She plays with his hair as he looks at her with a sweet contented smile on his lips.

Later they lay together, covered with the ridiculous wool blankets and watch the snow falling behind the window. Killian runs his hand up and down her back as she snuggles closer to him. Emma feels happy, happier than she had ever felt before.

She drifts to sleep with a smile on her face and a kiss against her temple.

***

When Henry finds them cuddling together on the couch under the same woolen blanket on Sunday morning. Taking one look at their disheveled hair, swollen lips and a little too glossy eyes,  he shakes his head, mumbles “ _Finally,_ ” and something akin to “ _Bloody miracle”_ under his breath, before heading to his room. Their happy laughter fills the apartment when the doors close behind him. It’s seems Christmas is indeed the time of miracles.

 

**The End**


End file.
